


love until your heart breaks (‘cause there are no guarantees)

by Lire_Casander



Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of gunshots, Spoilers For S01E08 - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:02:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24268627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lire_Casander/pseuds/Lire_Casander
Summary: tk’s being discharged from hospital, but his father can’t take him back home
Relationships: Carlos Reyes/TK Strand
Comments: 2
Kudos: 144





	love until your heart breaks (‘cause there are no guarantees)

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: **tarlos - carlos taking care of tk after he gets out of the hospital from the shooting. (because the show glossed over that way too much!)**
> 
> Title comes from _Bulletproof_ by Goo Goo Dolls.
> 
> Beta'ed by the always amazing [meloingly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meloingly). Thanks a lot for your help with this!

With a sigh, TK takes one look back at the bed where he’s stayed the past several days, fighting for his life even if he doesn’t remember most of it. He remembers the nightmares — the all too vivid dreams where he got to reenact his childhood days while his parents tore down every aspect of his existence in their quest to win their battle for divorce — but he canʼt recall all the times heʼs been spoken to. During one of his visits, Mateo has hinted that they all have stayed by his bedside, talking to him, taking care of him, urging him to wake up. TK doesn’t remember any of it, he isnʼt even aware of those visits, and it bums him because heʼs missed out on how much his found family loves him. 

“Are you ready, son?” his father asks from the doorway, TKʼs bag dangling from one of his shoulders. “Donʼt you want to get out of here?” 

TK nods his head, although heʼs unable to give voice to his doubts and his fears now that heʼs discharged from the hospital — how he isn’t going to miss the aseptic smell and the whiteness of the walls, how heʼs terrified that he isnʼt going to fully recover from this, how he doesn’t know how heʼs going to bear the pain and not surrender into the dreamless escape of narcotics. Instead, he turns around and smiles faintly at his father. 

“Letʼs go, then,” Owen urges him. “I canʼt wait until weʼre both out of here.” 

TK follows his father out of the room and through the hallways, stopping here and there to say farewell to the nurses who have tended to him and to the doctors they run into who have treated him during his coma. TK doesn’t really know any of them — heʼs been asleep for most of his time at the hospital, dead to the world while not being literally _dead_ — but he smiles politely and thanks them, echoing his fatherʼs words when itʼs required of him. 

Theyʼre almost outside when Owenʼs phone comes to life blaring with an AC/DC tune TK has never heard before in any of his fatherʼs devices. He frowns as Owen picks up the phone and barks into the microphone, walking into the nearest secluded space, which happens to be a waiting room. He leaves the bag on the floor, talking fast and sounding angrier and angrier by the second. He paces around the waiting room while TK stares at him, not quite understanding anything. When Owen hangs up, he turns to his son with an apologetic smile. 

“Iʼm sorry, son,” he begins. “The Chief wants to see me for something regarding Bobby, and it canʼt wait. I’ve tried to tell him Iʼd go after dropping you home, but itʼs seemingly urgent.”

“Donʼt worry, dad,” TK finds himself speaking. “I’ll call an Uber. You go. Call me when you’re done? I could order some dinner. I was thinking about paleo tonight.” 

“Youʼve heard your doctors,” Owen warns him. “Iʼm sure paleo doesn’t suit your bland diet. But let me organize your ride home. Donʼt worry about anything. Someone will be here to pick you up soon.” 

TK shakes his head but he doesn’t reply — he doesn’t want to bother anyone, but he knows itʼs to no avail trying to make his father change his mind. Instead, he grabs the bag from the floor and ushers his father outside. “Go!” 

Owen apologizes once again before exiting the hospital in a rush. TK drops onto one of the most uncomfortable chairs heʼs ever used, and fishes his own phone from his back pocket to entertain himself for a while, when his fingers hover over Carlosʼ contact — his second-most called number, right after his father. He hesitates for a moment, his mind a turmoil of thoughts and doubts, but before he can force himself to drop the phone heʼs dialing. 

The line comes busy, and TK frowns at his own phone. He knows objectively that Carlos could be at work, or talking to whomever he wants. But TK canʼt help the disappointment bubbling inside of him at the thought that he wonʼt be able to talk to Carlos. He chides himself for being so silly — he disregards the small voice at the back of his mind shouting at him that it has to mean something, that the first name to come to mind has been Carlosʼ. 

He knows Carlos has been visiting whenever heʼs been able to — heʼs learned, from Judd and Paul, that Carlos has been there for him during his unconscious hours, holding back tears as TK refused to wake up, and he himself has seen the officer walking into the room with an unsure step once TK had already come back to life. 

That has to mean something, but TK doesn’t dare to name it for the fear that it will become real. And real is the last thing he needs now — real is what got him back to square one after years of holding it together. 

He remains in his seat for a long while, debating whether or not call an Uber, when he hears his full name outside the waiting room, a nurse repeating it like a mantra. 

“Tyler Kennedy Strand, heʼs already been discharged earlier this morning.” 

“I know, but I was told he might still be here waiting for a ride home. Iʼve come as soon as possible,” TK hears in the voice of Carlos Reyes, and he canʼt help the smile that spreads its warmth throughout his whole body. 

“Iʼm here,” he says, standing up and walking to the door. “Carlos, what are you doing here?” 

When he steps outside the waiting room, he can see Carlos looking frantic at the nurse behind the desk in the nurse station, fingers tapping over the surface nervously. At TKʼs call, he turns around and looks at him, a blush tainting his face. 

“Your father called me,” Carlos explains, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. “Iʼm sorry I couldn’t come sooner.” 

“You’re the ride my father promised me?” TK shakes his head. “You didn’t have to come, you know. I could have called an Uber.” 

“Donʼt be silly, Ty. It’s only took me so long because I was finishing my shift,” Carlos explains, reaching out and picking the bag from TKʼs hands. “Cʼmon, letʼs go. Iʼm sure you want to get out of here.” 

TK nods and follows Carlos out of the hospital and into the busy street, the Camaro parked askew in front of the entrance. He chuckles, “Officer Reyes, were you in a rush?” 

“I once offered to put on the bar and the lights for you,” Carlos teases back, using the remote to unlock the car. “Offer stands still.” 

TK laughs as he climbs into the passenger seat. “No need, Officer. Iʼm sure we can reach my home with no fuss.” 

“If you say so,” Carlos mutters. But he ignites the engine and drives off into the traffic. TK gets lost in his thoughts as he stares out the window, the landscape of downtown Austin passing fast by them. 

Before he can realize it, Carlos is pulling up at his front yard, and TK notices that heʼs known the way when they have never spent time at TKʼs — they always ended up at Carlosʼ. 

“Your father texted me the address,” Carlos explains bashfully. “Iʼm not some sort of creep.” 

“Could have confused me,” TK mumbles. He fumbles through his pockets to find his keys; the movement makes his stitches stretch and itch, and he gasps. The sound has Carlos immediately by his side, one hand protectively around his waist. 

“Let me,” Carlos offers, taking the keys from TKʼs hand and entering them swiftly into the lock. He pushes the door open and holds it with his foot as he balances the bag on his shoulder while TK enters his own home after way too many days away. 

Carlos tells him to go sit on the couch, and he disappears into the kitchen, only to come back with a glass full of water and no bag. “I think I told you to sit down?” 

“Iʼm good, thanks,” TK mutters, looking around his living room as though heʼs seeing it for the first time. He wants to commit to memory everything, just in case another accident prevents him from ever coming home, and his eyes wander through the shelves until he settles for staring straight into Carlosʼ eyes. 

“Just sit down, TK,” Carlos tells him, gaze open and worried. TK finds himself unable to deny anything to him, so he complies. 

The second his back hits the couch, he feels as though all his energy has been drained from him. He exhales, resting his head on the leather fabric, and close his eyes. Exhaustion washes over him in waves, compelling him to just let go for a moment — to allow himself a tiny oasis of relief after all the stress. TK feels the couch dipping by his side, a warm hand running through his hair. 

“Lie down,” Carlos whispers, guiding TKʼs head down onto his lap gently. “Let me take care of you.” 

TK obeys, his hands finding solace in grabbing Carlosʼ fingers where they are touching his scalp. He hadn’t realized just how tired heʼs been from the simple task of riding shotgun in the Camaro, but he finds out he could sleep for three days straight. 

He just doesn’t want Carlos to leave his side. 

“Sleep, Ty,” Carlos says as he threads his fingers through his hair in small movements, soothing an ache he hadn’t realized he had been feeling. 

TK thinks there are a lot of things that he hasnʼt known heʼs been feeling until a bullet has turned his whole existence upside down. 

“I donʼt want to,” he protests. He isn’t looking forward to the nightmares the doctors have assured him that he might have. He hasnʼt remembered much of the accident — he refuses to call it otherwise, his heart in pain at the mere thought of that scared child pulling the trigger — but he doesn’t want to revisit it for the first time while alone with his dreams. 

“I’ll be here with you the whole time,” Carlos promises, a vow that echoes within TKʼs soul. “Trust me. Iʼm not going anywhere.” 

Carlos begins to sing softly, Spanish lyrics floating around his mind as TK slowly falls back into a dreamless slumber, those fingers soothing his aches and that voice calming his soul.


End file.
